The Cookie
by Annamonk
Summary: Buffy is back from Heaven and Wesley returns to Sunnydale They are both broken. Buffy turns to Wes when things get out of control, and he discovers that being a watcher doesn't mean he has to remain aloof and in control. It's not my sandbox, but, yeah, I am back playing in it.
1. Chapter 1

Wesley rested his head against his forearm and stared sideways at the glass of Glen Morangie beside him. The warm caramel glow of the light through the liquid was seductive. If he could drink enough he might forget if only for a short while. He closed his eyes and bit back the curse that rose to his lips. His father had been right about him. He was weak and foolish. He had failed and the cost was beyond measure. Angel's son was lost and it was his fault. He pushed back from the bar and walked toward door. He needed guidance, perhaps Rupert would help him. He strode out of the less than reputable establishment, mounted his motorcycle, and pulled onto the road heading toward Sunnydale.

The miles flew by, but he didn't appreciate the drive on the coastal highway. His thoughts were of the pain he had wrought for those he loved. Rupert had survived similar issues. He would have advice or at least a not unfriendly face. He drove by the dented Welcome to Sunnydale sign and felt a certain relief flow through him. It was here that his life had deviated from its mapped course. This was where he had first failed. He cringed as images of Faith and his torture at her hands flashed through his mind. He forced his mind from the dark slayer and found himself thinking of Buffy.

She was back again from the dead. Angel had said she was fine, but Wesley doubted it. She would never burden her beloved ex with her pain. She had done so many things over the years to ease the cursed vampire's pain, but none of the others realized it, not even Angel. They weren't used to seeing her sacrifices. Rupert had taught him to look for them, to perceive her differently. If he had learned it quickly enough, he might have found a place among the Scoobies and the world would have been better for it. Instead he had fought against the older man's knowledge and harmed both slayers in his arrogance.

He looked around pensively as he came to halt outside the house on Revello Drive. He shook his head. Rupert wouldn't be here. He should head over to the man's flat.

"Is that you, Wes?" Buffy asked as she approached the house quickly. "Is there trouble in Los Angeles? Do you need help?"

He smiled at her rapid fire questions and held up a hand to halt them before he lost track of the conversation.

"Yes, yes, and yes, I do. I've come to see Rupert." He smiled at her and watched as she cocked her head.

"Wrong place then, he's back in Merry Olde. He wanted me to learn to stand on my own." The fleeting anger and pain that chased across her face alarmed him, despite her light tone. She was suffering. He reached out and shoved a stray hair behind her ear. "I'm surprised the news hasn't reached L. A."

"Angel only told us you were back and seemed okay." The quick flash of rage across her features alarmed him.

"Yes, I guess I am fine. I sure haven't been, but I'm doing okay now. So, I'm guessing you need a place to stay." She looked him over carefully and gestured toward the house. He followed her, in the dark jeans and turtleneck, she moved like a panther. He forced his eyes away from her lean form. It wouldn't do to ogle his hostess.

"What has been happening here on the hellmouth? Anything unusual?" He asked hoping for something to distract himself.

"There's Xander and Anya's wedding tomorrow, want to be my plus one? Although I should warn you, my dress is hideous and Spike might make things difficult for you."

"Yes, we had a great deal of difficulty with Angel and Spike at your funeral," he said casually and she laughed, but the sound was brittle, not the full bodied joyful one he remembered.

"So, the dead things made a scene at my secret funeral service. Why am I not surprised?" She shook her head and her short hair brushed her shoulders.

"I shouldn't have brought up such a painful subject. I'm quite sorry for my gauche behavior." Wesley retreated into the comfort of propriety.

"I'm not much for secrets anymore. They sure didn't help me any." Buffy smiled at him sweetly and touched his arm. "If I had been honest and upfront about what happened things might be better now. At least, I might have a watcher in the same country with me."

"Rupert must be coming back soon." He said with quiet surety.

"No, he's back in Bath." She shrugged and opened the front door. "Dawn says he seems happy enough."

"You haven't spoken with him?" He stepped over the threshold and stood awkwardly in the entry to her home.

"Not much to say." She shrugged. "He found out they ripped me out of heaven and he was on a plane. I needed him. He left."

Wesley could see how hurt and bewildered she was. He wanted to pull her into his arms for a hug, but doubted she would welcome it from him. He looked around the house. Everything was tidy,but the place lacked the warmth he remembered.

Buffy walked down the hall into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator and a frown played across her face.

"I'm sorry there isn't much to offer you. Want some olives? The locusts ate my after slaying food." She shrugged and shut the door. "We might have some cereal."

"I really don't need food, but you do, Buffy. Let me take you out for something. You need to eat, slayer metabolism isn't forgiving." He paused when he heard her chuckle.

"I think I missed you, Wes. I can't ask you to feed me and without some money in my pocket there's no real option in or out of the house. I'll be okay." She stroked his arm from shoulder to elbow before dropping her hand to her side. "I've gotten used to it."

"How often are you going hungry?" Wes demanded. She shrugged. The gesture was becoming annoying. She needed a watcher, someone to care, someone to make sure her needs were met. It was the duty owed to her. What could have made Rupert Giles abandon her? It made no sense. "I insist we go out for food. I assume many of the restaurants still have extended hours?"

Buffy looked at him with wide eyes and nodded. He dropped his bags by the counter and offered Buffy his elbow. She tucked her delicate fingers in the crook of his arm, and they walked back to his bike together, pausing only to lock the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Buffy stared across the table and smiled as Wesley perused the musical selections on the table's jukebox. His eclectic selections made it easier to stay focused on the here and now. The fog that crept in when she wasn't busy was absent. Conversation had been a bit light as she cleared her plate, but it wasn't awkward between them. He had pushed his plate toward the middle of the table in a subtle offer. It was charming and sweet.

The man she'd known before would have lectured her on the dietary needs of a slayer and her responsibilities. The old Wesley knew what she needed in the abstract. She'd been a sports car or a robot in a way. He'd looked at her and seen The Slayer. He'd only really seen her at the end of his tenure in Sunnydale, but it had been too late for them to change course.

Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

Wesley had gone off to find his own path. Somewhere along the way, he had grown into a real man. It had been a long time since she had seen him, if she ever really had. there were outward changes, sure. The suits were history. Thank whatever deity controlled gabardine. The pontificating hadn't made an appearance, yet. He definitely had come of age. This man sitting across from her was so different from the would be watcher that had left Sunnydale.

She chewed on a fry and considered all the crap she'd been through since killing the mayor. It sure wasn't pretty. Plus, death.

She probably didn't seem like the girl she had been either. She sure didn't feel like that girl anymore. Maybe they could get along now, the rogue demon hunter and the twice dead slayer. It didn't seem impossible, and he didn't seem to expect more of her than she had to give. She ate several fries off his plate because she was hungry. Then she noticed him glancing at their reflection in the window glass and snagged some more to make him happy. She chewed them slowly and truly enjoyed the crunchy goodness for the first time since she'd clawed her way back into the world.

"You don't need to look away. I'll eat your fries." She smiled as he turned toward her with a sheepish grin. "It's nice to have a decent meal with an old friend."

"It is quite enjoyable." His voice was comfortingly familiar, just enough Brit for her.

She hummed along with the song he selected without paying any attention to it. It was nice to relax. She mulled over their evening and decided it was time to be a bit like her old self.

"Why are you here? You said the old triple yes. So spill." She looked up at him and caught the flash of grief on his face.

"Triple yes?" He asked blankly. It was an obvious stalling tactic.

"It is you, there is trouble, and you need help." Buffy tilted her head and smiled. Wesley's color drained and his gaze dropped to the table top.

"I made a mistake, a horrible mistake. I've cost Angel everything, betrayed him. I won't blame you if you don't want me to stay."

His pain pulled at something within her.

"He killed Jenny and we accepted him. Hell, I almost died saving his life. Plus, isn't he all about forgiveness. He hit me to defend Faith, and she had tried to kill him. He'll forgive you." Buffy grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. "Give him time."

"His son has been taken to another dimension. I think my life is forfeit in his opinion. It should be." Wesley's eyes dropped to the table again and she felt her gut twist.

"His son? How the hell does Angel have a son?" Buffy looked at Wes, and saw the panic beginning to take over. He thought she was angry. That was cute really. "I'm just saying, he's dead. Not expecting him to be running around with a child that wasn't a childe. Know what I mean?"

"It is a long story and not mine to tell," Wes said.

"Okay, so it'll piss me off." Buffy grinned.

"No, I truly don't believe it's my story to tell. Angel has some right to privacy. This isn't a world ending bit of news." Wes took a deep breath and Buffy put her hand on his.

"I get it. You're his friend, and you figure if he wanted his ex to know the situation he'd have explained it himself." Buffy shrugged. "I guess he found a way to get the things he said he could never give me."

"It wasn't like that. He didn't go looking for this." Wes fussed with his napkin.

"No, he wouldn't. He gave up our chance to be happy." Buffy shrugged at Wesley's confused expression. "The things you learn being dead. So back to the unforgiven part."

"They played me perfectly. I wanted to keep Angel and Connor safe. It seemed the only way." Wes looked up at her with desolate eyes.

"We've all fallen into traps. We've all made bonehead mistakes." Buffy's fingers tightened on his hand. She looked at the man sitting across from her, shattered and lost. Something buried deep inside her twisted and she felt a kinship with him. "We will figure it out."

"Buffy, he was dragged to a hell dimension. We can't even be sure which one." Wesley looked down at the table. "This is not a small mistake. Angel has every right to want me dead."

"It's not so bad, being dead. Sometimes it beats living, but you can't give up." Buffy covered one of his hands with hers. It was surprisingly warm. "We will find a way through this."

"Why don't we discuss your problems?" Wesley flipped his hand and curled his long fingers up to rub her skin gently. "I can't imagine it's easy to suddenly be alive once more."

"After you break out of the coffin and climb up through the dirt, it sucks even more. Really had a hard time adjusting to the world again. Hell, I slept with Spike, hurt him badly, I worked at Doublemeat Palace, and I can't tell you which bothers me more. Giles left because I was sinking into depression and hiding from life. I still hate it that he's gone. Some days I hate him because he gets to quit, to walk away and I have to stay here, fighting." Buffy blushed as she realized all she'd revealed.

"So, Spike." Wesley very obviously tried to conceal shock. Buffy shook her head.

"Yeah, he hasn't quite accepted the fact that it's over. I used him to feel and it hurt us both." She bit her lip. "I need to talk to him again. He helped me so much, but we don't have a future."

"Letting a vampire with his reputation down easy must be daunting." Wes took a deep breath.

"It's nice of you to be so open minded." Buffy grinned. "Spike cares about me, and I care about him, too. Not in the right way, but I do. He understands. It's the living through every day that's sucks."

"Why?" Wes tilted his head and watched her with a steady gaze. She wondered what he saw.

"It's not easy, trying to live again." She worried her lower lip with her teeth. She'd told no one. Not Spike. No one. She glanced up and looked into his face. There was no judgement in his gaze. He had his own issues. She dragged in a breath and let it go. Had to start somewhere. "Most days I feel like I'm pushing my way through a solid wall of ice and it sucks, but there are these moments where I'm warm and comfortable. Those are the worst moments. They make me long to go back."

"I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you." Wes reached out and clasped her hand with his other one surrounding it in warmth. She smiled. It was nice to feel the heat of his skin on hers. No one really touched her anymore. They hugged her and patted her on the back, but skin to skin just never happened. She looked at their hands, hers enveloped in his much larger ones.

"I know you were looking for Giles, but I'm glad you came." Buffy pulled her hand from his grasp and snagged a few more fries from his plate. He nudged the plate closer to her with a chuckle.

"Eat your fill." His voice was pitched low. "Would you care for some pie?"

"No, I don't think I could eat another bite." She said as she bit into a fry.

"Of course you couldn't," Wes grinned and signaled the waitress with the flick of his fingers. She hurried across the black and white tile floor to their table, ignored Buffy, and leaned forward displaying her ample breasts for him.

"What can I do for you?"

Buffy put a hand to her lips to stifle a giggle as she looked at Wesley's stunned expression.

"I'd appreciate a piece of apple pie." He averted his eyes and looked at Buffy with an awkward smile. "And two cups of coffee."

"No tea?" Buffy asked impishly.

"I doubt this place could produce a suitable cuppa." He looked about the fifties inspired interior. "A pity."

"I'll brew you some tomorrow. Giles left some of the good stuff behind. I drink it when things get unbearable." She bit her lower lip and looked at the chipped Formica between them. "I need a watcher, Wes. Are you up for it?"

She raised her gaze to his shocked eyes. Her hands trembled and she took a deep breath. It was this or call Giles and beg.

"I'm not a Watcher, not anymore. I failed you and Faith. I don't deserve the honor."

"You're what I got. I'm not much of a slayer anymore. I'm tired of giving it my all, my life, my loved ones. Giles wanted me to learn to stand on my own. I'm doing it, but a slayer needs a watcher. After I came back, I was lost. All I wanted was death. There was nothing in me but longing not to be here. I would have killed myself but for Dawn. There was nothing left. I'm not sure there's much more than that even now." Her words were barely more than a whisper.

"Did he renew the bond?" Wes asked.

"What are you talking about?" She felt her heart skip a beat as their eyes locked.

"There's a ceremony a Watcher performs when he takes on active duty. Did Rupert try to reconnect your bond?" His voice dropped, his tone urgent.

"Is this a shaking of the magic gourd thing?" She asked and watched his nod and the quick smile that flitted over his face. "I don't know. Why?"

"You were dead for many months. Your bond was damaged metaphysically. If he didn't renew it..." Wes looked up as the waitress approached with his order. He steadily ignored her flirtatious behavior while they stared at each other intently. She finally departed and Buffy broke their connection

"Giles could do this mojo thing and be my watcher again?" She could feel the gathering storm within. "Then why didn't he?"

"He might not have thought it through. You've died before and not needed the renewal. He might have left and be suffering much as you are. I can't say, not without research."

"Then we had better get on the stick with that after the wedding. Anya would kill me if I plunged us into a research frenzy on her big day." She tossed her hair and took the untouched pie from in front of him. "How about you be acting watcher until we know where we're at with all this?"

"I will be happy to help you in any endeavor, Buffy. In fact, I insist we stop at that twenty four hour supermarket on the way back to your home." Wes smiled. "You will need to eat a hearty breakfast everyday if I'm acting watcher."

She took a big bite of pie and smiled at him.


	3. Chapter 3

Buffy wrapped her arms around Wesley's waist as they rode through the night toward the grocery. Wes enjoyed the warmth of her pressed to his back and the relaxed strength evident in her body. There was no awkwardness. She moved easily with him on the bike.

He pulled up to the glowing store front and parked the bike in an open slot. Buffy slid away from him as they dismounted. the flash of the light reflected in her hair drew his attention. He watched Buffy check her weaponry with subtle touches that appeared to be nothing more than restoring her clothes to order. There was none of the flagrant flamboyance to which she'd been prone in her youth. The fact that she was old for an active slayer slid across his mind. Even compared to her own kind, she was unusual.

He was oddly glad to get this chance to become reacquainted with her. Beyond the years spent in training to watch over a slayer, Buffy had matured into an interesting and capable person. Most slayers counted their lives in months. There was no real room for growth in their frantic and frenzied lives. Buffy had grown in so many ways over the years and had developed a certain elegance that he found quite appealing.

"We can't get much, but we can return with a car soon." He smiled as she nodded, eyes scanning their surroundings. She watched a new father stumble towards the doors with formula and diapers. Exhaustion carved his face into bleak lines highlighted by the flashing neon of the beer sign. Buffy chuckled as he juggled his packages steadily toward a blue sedan. She stilled and a quick grin flashed across her face.

"Be right back." Buffy raced toward the shadows to his left. The vampire didn't hear her approach and exploded in a plume of dust before it could close in on its prey. Buffy bounced back to Wesley with a toss of her hair, and he smiled at her. She might feel like a less than perfect slayer, but her business like dispatch of the undead had been executed with precision.

"The lazy ones love this place. Xander usually takes down two or three a week all on his own. They're no talent bums for the most part." She smiled up at him with the glow of the street light reflected in her eyes. He marveled at her quick changes. She could be very much the lethal predator one minute, a giggling young woman the next, and then there were the quick flashes of the damaged being brought back from paradise.

"You seem to be in top form." The words sounded stuffy even to his own ears. He fought the urge to cringe.

"Why, Wesley, I never thought you noticed my form." Her eyes roved over him. "I have to say, you aren't doing so bad yourself."

He felt as if she punched him as he trailed behind her toward the store. He was no stranger to female appreciation. It wasn't odd, but this was Buffy. She had openly and frankly assessed his person without a moment of hesitation. He shook his head in wonder at the changes between the high school girl and the grown woman.

They stepped in through the sliding doors. Some horrible arrangement of one time pop hits played softly over the speakers. There was nothing appealing about the place.

"Mom preferred the farmer's market and the higher end places." Buffy shrugged. "But, hey, open twenty four hours."

"I suppose we only need a few things." Wes smiled and looked over the produce. He plucked a tomato from the pile and examined it.

"We only have your bike." Buffy grinned. "And less is still more than we have."

He looked over at her and wondered if it would be best to get the uncomfortable issues out of the way.

"In for a penny, in for a pound." He muttered. "Buffy, would you mind if I called Rupert and talked with him? I think it might be helpful, but I don't want to do anything without your knowledge and acceptance."

Wesley had no doubt she wasn't expecting him to ask about her watcher, but he needed information. Buffy rolled her neck and took a deep breath. nothing relieved the tension in her shoulders as she slowed in front of him.

"Acceptance? You aren't asking me to approve?" She turned around and walked backwards down the aisle.

"I won't hide things from you, Buffy, but I need information, and he is the best source. If we decide to work together for any length of time, we need to be open with one another. You may make decisions I have to accept, but I don't have the right to approve or disapprove of your actions. I will argue when I think you are wrong. I would expect the same of you. In this, I must speak with him if I am to be any use at all."

"So this is more of a you telling and me not flying off the handle thing then." She nodded her head slowly. He watched her hands twist and her teeth worry her bottom lip. He could see the difficulty she was having, and considered relenting. "Call him. I get it. He's still officially my watcher."

She slowed her pace and let him drag them past the berries. He wanted her to accept, but he found himself longing for approval. He had always wanted her approval and envied the easy camaraderie she had with Rupert.

He turned and looked at her in the glow of the florescent lights. She was staring at the ground putting one foot carefully in front of another. Odd flashes of pain showed in her expression. He couldn't help but wonder how the others were fooled. He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her forward and swinging their small plastic basket in his other hand.

"I'll need your help selecting foods. The foods you Americans consume for breakfast baffle me."

Buffy looked up at him with a smile. It didn't reach all the way to her eyes, but it was an improvement. He glanced down the long line of produce and shrugged, prepared to make an utter fool of himself if Buffy would continue to smile.

"Bananas are a big hit in my house," Buffy grinned. "Dawn likes them cut up on French toast."

"What do you like?" He asked as he placed a bunch of bananas in the basket. Buffy shrugged one shoulder in a practiced, casual manner. He gritted his teeth as she tried to act as expected. He wondered how often she faked her way through conversations these days.

"I don't much care for anything, so think about what you want. Don't worry about me. I eat enough to get by." Buffy smiled and put a couple of apples in the basket. "Willow grabs apples on her way to class."

He bit back the urge to lecture her on the nutritional needs of a slayer. She was too thin, but some battles could be fought slowly. He let her drop in a few oranges and grabbed some onions and mushrooms as they passed them. Buffy's eyebrows rose, but she continued strolling through the shop. He grabbed some diced ham and a dozen eggs while Buffy grabbed one cylinder that contained the makings of cinnamon rolls and icing. He tossed in some cheese and a loaf of bread.

"Do you think this is enough?" Wes asked as they approached the one clerk.

"It's plenty. It's more than plenty. We actually have choices." This time the smile made it to her eyes. "Everybody will love it."


	4. Chapter 4

Wes cooked breakfast as Willow and Dawn watched on. It was a decidedly odd sensation to be the center of the avid, predatory gaze. Buffy never made him feel like a weakened Zebra being watched by a hungry pride.

There was no question that he was apart from them. They had hit him with their cold attitudes and suspicious questions before he'd started cooking. Both girls had relaxed after he was clear that Angel had not accompanied him.

They made no effort to keep quiet.

He glanced over his shoulder toward the kitchen entrance and raised a brow. They blathered on. He bit back the urge to scold them. They lived here. He was an interloper. It seemed odd that neither of them considered the blonde sprawled on the couch down the hall was still sleeping.

Willow and Dawn had both been asleep when he and Buffy returned from the store the night before. They had unpacked the groceries when they arrived back from the store and sat to talk, but both of them had fallen asleep before the conversation had turned serious. He had awakened with her curled in his arms on the couch.

"So, why were you cuddling with Buffy?" Dawn asked as if his thoughts had guided her..

"We simply fell asleep on the couch. There was no cuddling." He flipped a piece of toast in the skillet. "It was merely happenstance."

"It didn't look simple. Did it, Willow? I mean he was all curled up around her back." Dawn let her voice trail off suggestively.

"It's called spooning." Willow said with an audible grin. How did the girl manage it? She always made him feel ridiculous. He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks.

"Leave him alone," Buffy said quietly as she strolled into the kitchen. "He isn't here to be your short order cook, and I haven't slept so well in a very long time. So, don't mess with a good thing, okay?"

He watched her glare at her sister and then turn a more significant look to Willow. They seemed to communicate through a strange series of facial ticks until Willow dropped her gaze toward the counter. The dynamics between the two girls were obviously damaged. He hoped there was something left to mend. Buffy needed an actual support system.

"Thank you for breakfast, Wes." Buffy placed a hand on his shoulder as she spoke. The warmth from her palm distracted him momentarily. It was pleasant to be touched so casually. He looked at her and noted the flush in her cheeks. It was comforting to realize she had been embarrassed by their teasing queries as well.

"French toast with bananas seemed the thing." He smiled at her stunned expression. "Get your coffee, or better yet share some of my tea."

Buffy smiled and picked up the mug next to him and took a sip. Her blissful expression, eyes closed, obviously savoring the contents, stopped his protest that she pour her own mugful. The easy intimacy was beyond anything they had ever shared in his tenure as her official watcher. He remembered watching her eat half of Rupert's lunch on several occasions, picking at it. It had annoyed him to see such rudeness at the time, but it didn't seem at all vulgar now.

"He actually cooks the bananas, too. It's so good." Willow rubbed her stomach.

"Why can't you cook like this, Buffy?" Dawn tossed her curtain of hair back over her shoulder. "I mean cereal seriously sucks."

Wesley saw the peace evaporate from her face as Buffy set the mug down. Her sister hadn't meant to hurt her. He knew Dawn didn't mean to be cruel, but it irked him. The soft, barely there grin that had graced the slayer's face disappeared behind a chipper façade.

"We all have our talents, Dawn." He turned and looked at the teen. "Your sister can do things the rest of us only dream of doing, and Rupert told me she could cook quite well."

"Thanksgiving," Buffy and Willow said in unison a quick smile traded between them.

"He loved those mushy peas." Buffy shook her head. "Even if they did look like demon snot."

"You used to cook for him, a lot." Willow smiled. "He liked my cookies, but your lasagna. He'd yell every time he caught Xander stealing it."

"Yeah, she used to make good mac and cheese, too." Dawn smiled at Buffy. "But your French toast is totally awesome."

"You need to get into the shower soon, Dawnie." Willow smiled. "The hot water tank has to survive extra long showers for all of us."

"Buffy, can you slay our dresses?" Dawn chirped. "Pretty, pretty please."

"Nope, not even the demon that designed them. I'm guessing it's a friend of Anya's." Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Could have been blood larvae and burlap, sweetie." Willow ruffled Dawn's hair. "I say we dodged a bullet."

"Is Tara coming here to get ready?" Dawn asked as they left the room. Buffy watched them leave. Her eyes trailed their every step. He nudged the mug toward her with the back of his wrist and was rewarded with a small smile.

"You really don't have to do all of this, Wes." Her words seemed to escape from her on a single breath. He looked at her and remembered waking up with her petite form pressed into his arms. She was underweight and sleeping poorly. She also had cracked ribs and a bevy of bruises.

She wasn't meant to be doing all of this alone. Slayers had watchers. The Council was supposed to support each girl through her service.

Buffy was a rebel, but she was still the Slayer. He knew it, and he'd make sure others did as well.

Money would help, but she needed more. A steady hand at her back would release some of the pressure. It was the myriad of little things. He had never felt truly needed before, never imagined something as prosaic as holding someone through a troubled night would be so fulfilling.

"I am doing all of this because I want to do so." He touched her drooping chin to bring her gaze to his. "If I am to be your acting watcher, you will have to accept my desire to coddle you a bit."

"You were never about the comfort and humanity before." Buffy looked up into his eyes.

"If you are looking to avoid personal connections between slayer and watcher, ask the council to send someone new. I don't want to be that idiot again." He let his hand fall from her chin. She stared into his eyes, into him. It seemed eternity passed as he waited for her rejection.

"Okay, so not wanting a fourth. I like you, Wes. I just don't want you to feel used or abused by us, me." She finished, and her eyes fell to the floor. "I hurt Giles pretty badly. I don't want to hurt you as well."

"Buffy, I am not Rupert. I need to be here, need to prove there's some value left to my life. I want to help the cause for your sake as well as my own. I need to figure out how to live with what I've done."

"I am not some path to redemption. You know that, right?" Her lovely green eyes searched his face intently. "I'm struggling to find my own way."

"I am aware." He tapped her chin with one finger. Their easy comfort with each other was odd, considering their history. He'd expected her to push and prod at him with her quips and her anger, but she'd met him with a calm acceptance. He stroked her cheek. "I think, if we have any luck left, we might stumble together well enough for a time."

"Call Giles and ask your questions soon, but get a tux first." She put one hand against his chest. "My dress is a horrible green thing."

"Are you abandoning me to eat all by myself?" He asked as he set two plates onto the counter.

Buffy looked at the food as he slid it on to the plates. He watched her tongue as she licked her lips. It was gratifying to entice her back to life by meeting her needs. He had been informed about the awful things they ate in this house. He could see how often she went with out a meal. She needed to be reminded of the simple pleasures of life, the real joys. Food was as good a place to start as any.

"Well, it does look awfully yummy, and it would be rude to let you eat alone." She grabbed a plate and his mug of tea and took a seat at the counter with a gamine grin.

He poured another mug of tea and settled himself next to her. They ate in silence. Buffy occasionally glanced in his direction, but she never spoke. He leaned back and watched her, wondering what he should do to help her.


	5. Chapter 5

Buffy darted quick glances at Wes as he dealt with Xander while she treated the scratches on Anya's arm with D'Hoffryn looking over her shoulder. He was addressing her friend's issues with calm authority, keeping the groom from further exacerbating a bad situation. The wedding was going to happen. The trials of this day would end in happiness. Anya looked up at her with wide glassy eyes.

"I've hurt so many people, Buffy. Am I good enough for him?" Anya twisted her hands around her bedraggled bouquet.

D'Hoffryn snorted.

"Anya, you were a demon for eleven hundred years. There are bound to be some issues returning to human life, but I think you've handled it well. Look at me," Buffy touched her chest over her heart. "I'm the slayer, and I'm standing next to the leader of the vengeance demons because we both care about you."

"Anyanka, I mourn your loss amongst us each day. You were truly a bright star among us. I hope this human existence will make you happy, but if it doesn't your family will always be there for you in all its forms. Be it ours or hers." He nodded toward Buffy regally. "You have found a place of honor in this existence. It would not be my choice, but free will is the blood of our work. Is it not?"

"Do you think I'll be a good wife?" Anya chewed on her lower lip and looked at her disparate comforters with bleary eyes. Xander's eyes shot toward them as Buffy nodded.

"Xander will help you, and you will help him." Buffy stroked her uninjured shoulder. "He's the best friend, loyal, and loving. He is our group's heart and he will help you everyday. He's gonna be the best husband for you and you will protect him, take care of him, because the boy needs protecting. He's a danger magnet. you two belong together. I know it. Now, go fix your make up."

Anya ran from the room to see the damage.

Wes smiled at her as he pushed Xander through the doors and up to the front of the gathering. Buffy watched him and thought for a moment of her coming discussion with Spike. She was happy for Xander and Anya, but she was happier still knowing she had back up. Wes had helped her smooth over a crisis and avert a wedding apocalypse in his own quiet way.

"D'Hoffryn, do you think you could give Anya away?" Buffy looked up at the demon with her sunniest smile. "Anya really does see you as family."

"This I will do." He inclined his head towards her again. The demon sure had a way with the whole gentlemanly thing. "You have been hurt so greatly child. I would be happy to grant a wish for you, my dear."

He smiled, and Buffy shook her head.

"It's a nice offer, but I am working on handling my problems in a different way." Buffy shrugged.

"You are quite lovely for a human. I would have enjoyed seeing you in burlap and blood larvae, but this frock is very fetching. If you should change your mind," he paused meaningfully as Anya returned. Buffy nodded in her direction to bring an end to the conversation. "Anyanka, the lovely slayer has suggested that, perhaps, I should escort you to the altar."

"Oh, Buffy, you are so sweet." Anya stepped into position and took D'Hoffryn's proffered arm. "You think of everything."

Buffy smiled as she pushed through the door and started down the aisle. She looked at Dawn, Tara, Willow, Halfrek, and Wes arrayed around the minister. Her eyes sought Wes's and a calm settled within her when he winked.

The ceremony proceeded normally and everyone had settled into the reception afterwards, happily. Tara had helped Wes with a spell to restore sobriety to the Harris clan. Buffy had smiled her happiest smile at the assorted demons, striking fear into them unintentionally.

She smiled as she sipped some ginger ale through a straw and watched the crowd. She had danced once with Xander and a few of the braver demons had asked her out on to the floor as well. Anya kissed Xander for at least the thousandth time in the last few hours. This was of the good. Tara and Willow were dancing happily and Dawn was giggling with Clem as they discussed the merits of different deli meats.

"Giles should have come to visit for this." Buffy sighed. "It would have been awkward, but how could he miss this? Just to force me to grow up?" She rubbed away a tear, missing him intensely.

Wes smiled at her from across the room. She nodded at him and walked up the stairs. There were only a couple of demons up here, talking quietly. She leaned against the railing and thought of Spike. She missed him, missed his snark and his devotion. She hated that she couldn't love him, hated that she wanted to go to his crypt and hide from this. She watched the others living their lives and saw their futures unfolding before them.

There was no future for her. There would be crisis after crisis until it ended, again. The futility of it infuriated her. She closed her eyes and fought the urge to run to Spike. It would kill her to hurt him, to use him, to lose her humanity in pieces, giving way completely to the slayer within.

"It's a nice view from up here," Wes walked up behind her. She opened her eyes and glanced in his direction. "They'll be heading off on their honeymoon soon."

"Yeah, then everybody will head off their separate ways. Willow and Tara look like they might be on the path of togetherness again. I think, maybe Will ought to move in with her when they are ready. Dad is going to take Dawn to Spain for the summer." Buffy smiled. "She'll enjoy it."

She could feel his eyes on her, knew he was paying attention to her. She liked having him around. It wasn't awkward or invasive. Wes had grown up.

"What will you do?"

"Patrol, find another job, and just get things a little more together. I'm done with the struggle for a regular life. I won't get one, but I need to make sure Dawn's future is protected." She heard the detachment in her voice and knew he did as well.

"You kept them together today. It was your words that convinced Xander to go through with it. He was terrified that he would hurt Anya if he married her, but you helped him find the strength to confront his fears." Wes settled his hand on her shoulder and stroked her skin with his thumb.

"I was talking with Anya." She waved her hand dismissing his odd notion. "You're the one that kept Xander steady. It was nice having back up. You're a good man to have around."

"If only that were true." Wes smiled at her and squeezed her shoulder again.


	6. Chapter 6

Rounding up a tux had taken most of his time the day before and sorting the wedding had taken the rest of it. It wasn't an apocalypse, but it had been interesting. Things had a way of spiraling out of control quickly around a slayer. he needed to be prepared.

Waking up with Buffy snuggled up to him on the couch for the second day in a row was a pleasant start, but he knew the call to Rupert couldn't be put off.

He'd been making mental notes. There were far too many things that didn't add up. The Council was far from the noble institution he'd been raised to believe in, but they didn't abandon slayers like this. Her mother's medical bills should have been paid from the familial funds. The house should have been paid off. Leaving a slayer with so much common difficulty was bound to lead to disaster.

Buffy shifted against him and rubbed her cheek against his tee shirt. He stroked her hair in hopes of soothing her back to sleep. They'd spent some time after the wedding lost in conversation and wound up nodding off again.

"I need to get up." Buffy pressed her forehead into his sternum. "But, you're a damn fine pillow, Wes."

"I seem to have found my place in the universe." Wes smiled as she grumbled and sat up. "It is so good to be of service."

"Slayer cuddler." Buffy grinned. "There are worse job titles."

With a smirk and a quickly blown kiss she was gone. He heard her rapid footsteps on the stairs and headed for the kitchen. He had to make her something to eat before she headed out the door. She'd been ignoring her hunger for too long. It would take time to adjust her back onto a schedule of regular meals.

* * *

Buffy finished off the breakfast burrito that Wes had made for her. It was yummy and portable, good things for the slayer on the go. Or the not so go, she fussed with her shirt and stared at the crypt door. She could sense him in there.

Spike.

She licked her lips and determined that her big girl panties were on and staying that way. It would have been so much easier to pretend he'd taken advantage of her, but she knew it for a lie. She'd been the one taking advantage.

"Are you just going to dick about with the statuary, then?" Spike pushed the door open but kept carefully to the shadows. "You're about as subtle as a rampaging wildebeest."

"I suppose you're the rhino?" Buffy narrowed her eyes and glared.

"Got the right equipment." He smirked and thrust his hips a tiny fraction. "Not that you care."

"I'm not here because I don't care." Buffy walked through the splash of sunlight into the crypt. "I'm here because I do."

"So, you want to hold hands in public and be my girl?" Spike shook his head. "Don't lie."

"I'm not." Buffy hopped up onto the sarcophagus. "This isn't easy for me, so try to be less you for a minute and we'll see if I can explain."

"Fine." Spike crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not going to be all Angel perfect pouffy, pouty pants, though."

"I actually prefer your snark to his drama every time." Buffy grinned. "You seem to think you're a substitute for Angel, but you're not. He isn't one of us. He isn't family. You are."

"I used to try to make him join us, but he never would. He likes standing out in the rain and crying about being wet." Buffy rolled her eyes. "You just moved in. One day, you made a decision. We tied you to a chair and treated you like shit, but you stayed."

"I did try to kill you a time or two, Pet." Spike grinned and relaxed, plucking out a cigarette from his pack.

"Your heart wasn't in it." Buffy smiled. "And, we both know it."

"I think you Summers girls are my downfall." Spike leaned back against the wall and lit his smoke. "Ever since Joyce gave me a cup of that hot chocolate, I've been hooked."

"I think you're family." Buffy twisted her hands together in front of her. "I think you love us, and we love you."

"Love me?" Spike arched a brow. "Do you really?"

"I do." Buffy shifted from side to side. "We get each other so well. I wish I loved you the right way. It would be nice to know that we could be soft and warm together."

Spike looked away from her and flicked his half smoked cigarette into the corner.

"Don't play with me, Slayer." Spike glanced at her from the side of his eyes. "I'm a monster, and you don't want to be."

"I'm a monster." Buffy pulled her jean clad legs up to her chest. "I've died twice, but here I am. Dawn was a glowy ball of light. You're a vampire. And, I think we're all family. It's weird, but it's the truth."

"So, we have some sort of incestual relationship?" Spike curled his lip. "I don't think so, Pet."

"I think you and I have some issues. It's not healthy to be alive and dead at the same time." Buffy shrugged. "I didn't have the best professor for psych, but I'm pretty sure we are both just plain fucked in the head."

"Or just plain fucked." Spike chuckled.

"Yeah." Buffy sighed. "I think I needed to reconnect with this world, but I couldn't. You saw it. You saw through my smiles and my lies. It wasn't pretty or healthy, but what we did got me plugged back in."

"It was a bit of fun, too." Spike crossed the room and stood in front of her. "Right? It wasn't all dregs and ashes."

"It didn't suck. Well, you did occasionally." Buffy let her legs down and scooted to the side.

"You did a time or two, as I recall." Spike swung up next to her. "So, where are we now?"

"You're my best friend, Spike. I trust you more than anyone in the world, and I'm scared." Buffy leaned against his side. "I'm scared we fucked this thing up so badly."

"It's a bit awkward, yeah." Spike patted her knee. "But we supernatural beings are adaptable."

"I need you to go to Spain with Dawn. I know it's a big ask, but Dad's not much for the attention paying." Buffy sighed. "Plus they've never actually met. She trusts you, and you have faced down a goddess for her."

"I do anything for my girls." Spike stroked his fingers over her knee. "Because, in one way or another, you and Little Bit will always be my girls."

Buffy sobbed and turned into his arms. He pulled her close and patted her back. They rocked back and forth for a time until her sobs broke and quieted.

"So, when do I get to put the new watcher type through his paces?" Spike ripped a piece off his shirt and wiped her face. "If I'm off to Spain, I need to know he's up to snuff."

They both chuckled, and Buffy looked around the crypt.

"We should move your stuff to the house." Buffy chewed on her lower lip. "We could fix up the basement into a nice room for you."

"You really do like awkward, don't you?" Spike hopped down from the top of the sarcophagus. "But family, right?"

"Yeah." Buffy laughed.

* * *

Giles hung up his phone and stared at the picture sitting on his desk. Buffy was smiling from her place between Xander and Willow. She was so young in the picture. It was easier to see her that way, to remember the bond as a happy thing.

He'd thought it dead until a few days ago, but, now, even with thousands of miles between them, he could feel her.

She was sad quite often, but there had been flashes of humor and even a moment or two of comfort.

He glanced down at his notes. Wesley had made a strong argument about tradition and duty. Nothing he had asked for was out of line, nothing was revolutionary. It would help Buffy and allow her to have a better quality of life.

He looked toward the whiskey but dismissed the idea before it fully formed. Too many watchers went the way of the drunkard. He deserved to feel like a failure. He had never considered any of these arguments.

He'd assumed his bond with Buffy was broken and left because the pain was so great for him. He'd put his own needs ahead of his slayer's. He turned back to the picture on his desk. It was fine, but he needed a newer one. There would be time later to disappear into a bottle with nothing but his memories. His slayer needed him now.

He pushed up from his seat and headed towards the door. He'd have to talk with several of the elders if he was going to be any help to her. He felt his optimism rising as he slid on his jacket. There was a future to be had, and he was heading home.


	7. Chapter 7

Spike frowned as Buffy and Wesley trained in the back yard. The man was a dab hand with a sword and his hand to hand was good. Angelus had trained the boy up, but he'd left a few bad habits. Typical of the bastard. He didn't want anyone to challenge his dominance.

"Angelus didn't do half bad with you, Whelp." Spike grinned as the would be watcher sputtered and Buffy hid her smile. "Left a couple of vulnerabilities we have to train out of you before I take my leave. Typical of the great forehead. He doesn't want anyone around that can beat him."

"That really does explain a lot." Buffy rolled her eyes. "He's such a drama queen."

"Preaching to the choir." Spike smirked as the brunette man gaped at them both.

"You haven't gotten far enough away from the old bastard yet." Spike clapped the fellow on his back and plucked a spare sword from its resting place. "He let you research because he hates it. He was a drunkard and a brawler in life, not a man of letters, our Angel. He taught you enough to keep you alive but not enough to thrive. Ignored the magic in you as well, I'd reckon. He's always hated the mojo. Beyond his ken, really."

Spike circled the younger male and watched as Buffy slipped back. The next few minutes were spent with the sweet music of blades crossed. The man was good and rather stronger than he should be with his human physique.

"You're from an old watcher line like Rupert was." Spike smirked as he twisted to avoid his fellow Brit's lunge. "A bit faster, a bit smarter, magically gifted."

"A bit." The whelp smiled and flicked his fingers causing Spike to stumble. "It's not cricket though."

Spike broke into laughter and waved off the new watcher.

"I think you'll do, Wes." Spike grinned. "I've needed a fellow about with a proper appreciation of sport. You need to work on that magic. With a bit of practice, you will be able to use it easily. Rupert didn't care for his. It's a gift though. Gives you a chance to stand at her back."

"Clean up my blades when you're done. I'm heading over to Janice's to fetch Dawn." Buffy looked sternly at the pair of them. "Play nice."

* * *

Tara watched Willow pace slowly around her apartment. There was something frantic and agitated in her movements despite their measured grace. Tara sighed and waited for Willow to talk.

"You're not going to ask?" Willow spun around and focused her eyes on Tara.

"Do I need to?" Tara sighed. "You're here. You're unhappy. Do you want me to give you permission?"

"She's moves in Wesley and, now, Spike. Why isn't everyone concerned?" Willow tossed her hands up and set her bangles to rattling. "She isn't doing it right."

"What?" Tara blinked and eased back against the hand embroidered pillow behind her. "What isn't she doing right?"

"She's supposed to be learning to stand on her own. That's why Giles left." The odd scent of ozone and rosemary that often accompanied Willow's castings filled the air. Tara frowned and held up a hand to stop the coming tantrum.

"That's What Giles told Buffy, but things aren't that simple." Tara waited a moment for Willow to focus on her. "Giles left because he couldn't reach Buffy, and he couldn't stand to watch her fade away or explode."

"Well, he was right to leave then." Willow swung around and rolled her hands into the hem of her sweater. "She's letting Spike move in. They'll probably be playing out his kinky fantasies in no time."

"They won't. They're finding their true places in each other's hearts. It's in their auras." Tara let her own magic float out a bit to remind Willow that she was not the only witch in the room. "Buffy is fighting her way back to us. Spike helped her want to live again. He's been able to understand her in a way we can't. I know there's some serious history there, but they're settling into a coven. He's her second not her mate."

"She's a slayer. They don't do groups." Willow rolled her eyes. "They're supposed to be independent."

"Being independent doesn't mean being alone." Tara sighed. "Buffy is surrounding herself with people she trusts. You're upset because you aren't one of them."

* * *

"So, you're having Spike move in, but you're not with him?" Dawn watched her sister closely. "That's so weird."

"Yeah, well, my life isn't exactly normal." Buffy shrugged. "Spike is family. He just isn't my boyfriend, and he won't be."

"But, You were..." Dawn blushed. "I mean Tara was researching. I kinda read her notes, but I kept Willow from taking them."

"Well, Willow will be moving out." Buffy frowned. "She isn't paying rent or buying food, so she should be able to find a nice place of her own. We need to redo the bedrooms. Want to do some painting before you head off to Spain with Dad?"

"You should have Mom's old room." Dawn fussed with the ends of her silky brown hair. "You need space for weapons and stuff."

"You're just after my room." Buffy wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulder. "If you try to sneak out, we will catch you. You know that, right? Don't make Spike be all Victorian about it."

"I'm never going to date again am I?" Dawn shrugged off her arm. "It's not fair. You went out and stuff."

"Life isn't fair." Buffy chuckled. "God, I used to hate it when Mom said that."

"It's not much better coming from you." Dawn punched her on the shoulder lightly. "You want to go to the movies? Come on over and meet my family. The vampire in the basement, the slayer sharpening her swords, and the watcher that cooks. Does he do more than cook?"

* * *

The grandiose office the Council of Watchers maintained irritated Giles more as he thought about Buffy being forced to work a demeaning job to make ends meet. He stared at the painting hanging on the wall and waited. Travers was throwing his power about. It was to be expected. Buffy had tweaked the man's nose more than once, and he had helped her. The Head of the Council was getting his revenge. Petty, but that was par for the course.

"He will see you now." The mousy receptionist with the perfectly coiffed hair did not look up at him as he walked into the office.

"Hello, Rupert." Travers leaned back in his chair but did not stand. "What can we do for you today?"

"I'm here on Buffy's behalf." Giles stepped toward the desk. "She needs help. Traditionally, we've cared for our Slayers and their families."

"It's quite a bit harder when they're feral. Her mother never accepted a dime from the family fund." Travers sighed. "It would have been so much easier to manage the girl if they'd felt the tiniest bit beholden."

"Why wasn't the money forwarded to Dawn when Buffy died? Pryce reminded me that it should have been." Giles frowned.

"Dawn Summers is a mystical construct. Why should we support it?" Travers frowned.

"She is Buffy Summers' sister. We sent you the blood tests. She may have an unusual origin, but that doesn't excuse this callousness." Giles resisted the urge to yank the man up from his chair. "Her line could produce a slayer."

Travers nodded slowly and mumbled something under his breath.

"The new slayer complained that her watcher has become listless." Travers rubbed the back of his neck. "I feel like I'm waking up."

"There's a new slayer?" Giles frowned.

"When your Buffy died this last time, Petra was called. She was raised by us." Travers stood up. "We knew about her before a day had passed."

"Why wasn't news spread?" Giles rolled his shoulders. "What is wrong with this place? Why does it feel so damned oppressive?"

"Very good questions." Travers looked down at his desktop. "I can't remember the last time I've dealt with anything."

"Pryce was drummed out, wasn't he?" Giles spun around and looked at the art on the walls. "He isn't a watcher sworn at the moment."

"You're the only candidate that's been readmitted. Twice, I might add." The shorter man looked up at the portrait and frowned. "These aren't right. None of them."

"I remember paintings of women, of slayers." Giles frowned. "I don't come to headquarters often. Where did those paintings go?"

"You're better with Magic's than I am." Travers stepped close to him. "Is there a spell imbedded in the frame?"

Giles reaches out with his magic and sensed the spell. It was an insidious bit of work. He stepped forward toward it.

"Don't." Travers looked around them at all of the paintings. "You don't come to headquarters, but you were caught up in this. Pryce was unaffected. We need to check the scrolls and the stone. Some thing has happened to them."

Giles nodded and fell into step behind Travers as they stalked through the halls toward the heart of their organization.

* * *

Buffy smirked as she listened to Wes and Spike arguing about cutting an escape route out through the basement. She'd done that already, but they hadn't found it during their cursory inspection. It was fun knowing they were arguing for no good reason.

She arranged the mugs and the cookies on a tray. Their argument had graduated to examining maps. She shook her head and carried the tray into the dining room.

It looked a bit like a war room with maps thrown all over the table. She coughed and watched both men straighten.

"Brought you a snack." Buffy looked down at the tray. "Be sure you get the right mug. I put a dash of hot sauce in the blood, Spike."

"It covers up the piggy taste." He shrugged and smiled at Wes. "Don't tell Angelus."

"You don't differentiate between Angel and Angelus at all." Wesley frowned and plucked his mug of tea from the tray.

"He's the same bloke." Spike shrugged. "He abandoned the lot of us all the time. The soul only makes him feel guilty about it." Spike shrugged. "Doesn't change his behavior. I know you lot want to respect him, but he spent a lot of years living off rats. He wasn't out in the world doing good until Buffy made him think. Didn't keep him from running off though. Just like he did to Drusilla. Wanker."

"Both Drusilla and Buffy offered him visions of his life." Wesley mused. "I never considered his demonic personality as a valid one before."

"Be sure that he will show up here and try to drive a wedge between you while I'm off in sunny Spain." Spike curled his lip. "It's another thing he loves to do. Soul or no soul. He likes to keep his ladies loving him."

"I'm over it." Buffy sighed. "Angel loves to poke his nose in. This time I'll just punch it."

* * *

Drusilla trailed her fingers through the curls on the head of her most recent meal. He'd have been a sweet new toy, but she was too hungry. She liked her lips and let herself float on his soft, fluffy life force. Something was pressing against her, knocking at the door in her head. Always so loud. Always so needy.

She tilted her head and looked up at the stars. They flickered and spun above her, drawing pictures in the back of her mind. She could see her William burning. She could see her Daddy killing one of his pets. There was no joy left in either of them. She stroked the cooling skin under her hand and frowned.

"The Queen must have her court." She growled. "This will not do. Not at all. I want my tarts. No knave will steal them all away."

She wrenched the head from the body next to her and tossed it up at the sky before spinning around.

"I shall be the one." She skipped away when the head landed in the bushes a few feet away. "I shall be the one and we shall all still play."


End file.
